What would have happened if?
by shedoc
Summary: What would have happened if Blair visited the bullpen before the gang gathered? [alternate ending to TS by BS]


What If...What if...

By Shedoc

Disclaimer - don't own them, no money, don't sue

Thanks to Doreen for the new home - it's very comfortable. This was a little something that was bugging me at nights and just had to be written. It's a bit angst ridden and some of it beggars belief, but hey this is fiction after all g .

Warnings: don't run with scissors. Evil grin 

0o0o0

Chapter One

Blair looked around the tiny room that he had once called his. It was bare now - the futon gone and the cheap furniture he'd managed to salvage from the warehouse that he'd once called home not even marked on the floor by dust bunnies. The bookshelf that had been there when he'd moved in stood lonely and empty in its usual corner. The floor gleamed up at him - he'd got down and polished it back to the glossy sheen it had once had - and Blair sighed. Satisfied that he'd wiped all traces of himself from the echoing room - it seemed a lot smaller now it was empty, much to his surprise - Blair turned away, closing the glass doors that Jim had installed as a surprise for his roommate.

Heart aching as the week's events played like an endless record in his mind, Blair looked around the loft proper. Here he was still a small presence. He'd started in here, taking down everything that had belonged to him until his heart rebelled at the empty and cool spaces. Making sure he chose artifacts that Jim was accustomed to handling during their training exercises or things that they'd chosen to display together when Jim had moved Blair back into the loft after Alex, Blair had refilled the cold spaces. The shouted words that Jim had flung across this space over the dissertation echoed loudly in Blair's ears for a moment - as did the pain and fear that had been on Jim's face that had screamed at him for help. Mastering his errant memory Blair checked the bathroom - no hair, no messy towels, and no weird products. The kitchen was bare of the foods that Jim barely tolerated in his home, though Blair was leaving the canisters of tea behind, clearly labelled in case Jim needed them. The detective hated to admit it, but occasionally Blair's 'brews' were all he could handle.

He'd cleared his office straight after the press conference, and his drawer at the PD just before the assassin's final attack. He and Jim had connected for a moment, the old sympathy and prescience flowing in harmony with each other. Unable to bear the cruel impossibility of their partnership, Blair had slipped away. His mother had met him at the loft with the truck from the removal company

her friend worked for. It was already half full from his office, it wasn't too long to pack the rest and Naomi had driven away to the storage shed that they'd rented from the same friend at a bargain rate.

Blair sighed and looked around one more time, imprinting the space on his heart.

This had been his first home, his first safe place in a very long time. Homes had been rare in his wandering childhood, and safe places were more often internal images. The loft had meant so much to him, not just because it was a shelter, but also because it held Jim. His life's search, his best friend, his soul brother, and the man he loved all rolled into one beautiful and complex package. The man he loved so much he was leaving him to get on with life, unburdened by Blair's reputation.

Steeling himself for the pain of this action Blair pulled the loft key from his chain and put it gently on top of the note he'd left on the dining table. Swallowing hard and refusing to acknowledge the tears running down his face Blair pulled the door closed one last time, shouldered his pack and walked down the corridor. The lift started up and he turned down the stairs automatically, not wanting to face the passenger.

He walked without pause to the Volvo and got in, starting the engine immediately and driving away. With the dissertation over and the partnership dissolved Blair would have to learn to be independent once more - that included getting a job that would allow him to pay off the student loans and maybe pay the costs of a good lawyer should the University decide to go the vicious route and sue him for loss of reputation. First stop, the car dealership that had promised him a good price for the Volvo. That would pay for the storage of his stuff for a year.

Then he'd have to see.

0o0o0

Jim got out of the lift and renewed the grip on his cane. He'd been expecting Blair at the station today, but neither he nor Naomi had showed up. Uneasy that his friend was home moping, Jim had reorganised the surprise and left for home.

The faint scent of Blair in the corridor told Jim his friend had just been out here, and he smiled, putting his key in the lock and jiggling to get it to open. One of these days he'd have to replace the damn thing - but it seemed someone was always kicking the door open and it just seemed like too much effort.

The loft was silent, the last rays of the sun slanting in from the balcony as Jim shut the door and hung up his coat. For some reason Blair's scent was as faint as it had been in the corridor - Jim was used to it being more concentrated in the loft, and he frowned in concern. The living area was a lot neater and it seemed to Jim that one or two objects were missing. It was possible that Sandburg had to return them - they might have been on loan, though Jim thought that Blair had only displayed objects he owned. Apprehension gripped the Sentinel and he limped to the glass doors under his bedroom.

"Blair?" Jim called, his voice echoing in a way that was offensive to his ears. The precious heartbeat wasn't in the loft anywhere. Jim took a deep breath and pushed the doors open with trembling hands.

"No!" he shrieked as the emptiness hit him like a slap in the face, "Blair! Dammit! Don't leave!"

The total lack of reply seemed to mock him. Anger made Jim check the room thoroughly as though his Guide and best friend could be hiding in an empty corner. Nothing, just the faint scent of the man who'd lived there for so long and worked so hard to clean himself away.

After a while Jim calmed down. Realising that Blair had done what he thought Jim had wanted - the man hadn't known Jim was trying to get him a place in the Academy, that he was supposed to get his badge today in the bullpen with their team watching in approval - made Jim feel sick to his stomach.

He was going to give Blair his badge and then take his partner away to the lookout that Blair loved to stand at when the wind was blowing. The young man was often found there on windy days, his hair snarled and his eyes wild as he watched over his city in his own way. Jim had joined him the last time and wrapped his arms around a body too thin from illness - the lung infection the fountain had given him had been hard to overcome despite the medicines Blair took under doctor's orders and Sentinel supervision. There had been a wild peace in those hours together and Jim had wanted to recapture it for the repair of their bond.

Jim wanted to make it right between them - those few moments of harmony on the PD roof after he'd been shot had shown the Sentinel exactly what he was missing. He wanted that back - the camaraderie and easy warmth in Blair's voice and face had been a balm to his aching mind and body. Jim wanted to explain once and for all why the dissertation bothered him so much - so Blair could soothe away his fears and banish the last of the demons. He knew the younger man could - he knew deep in his heart that Blair had never wanted to hurt him, that the dissertation had taken a backseat to their partnership in the early days. Jim's control of his senses had been hard fought for by both men, not just Jim. It had taken Jim a while to realise that the younger man was fighting for him, not against him.

That brief idyll when they'd been in complete accord had been shattered by Alex. Jim hung his head and admitted, finally, that his refusal to face the spectre of Blair's death had prevented them from repairing the bond completely.

A white square gleamed on the table in the last of the sunlight and Jim limped to the tabletop. It was a note - Blair's distinctive handwriting marched across the page. While the man was a tornado in real life, his handwriting was precise and neat, moving across the page in straight lines whether the page was lined or not. Gulping a deep breath and blinking to clear his eyes, Jim picked up the note and the key.

/The final betrayal. I love you Jim./

Sobs wrenched their way from the detective's chest as he crushed the note to him and sank to the floor.

0o0o0

Simon fidgeted in the wheelchair as Joel opened the door to the loft. Jim hadn't answered the phone all day and while it was possible he was with Blair, trying to salvage their partnership, Simon thought something a little more sinister was at work here.

"Jim?" Joel called as he wheeled his friend inside, "Jim, are you here?"

Simon sucked in a breath when he saw the cane, and they rounded the table to find Ellison curled up on the floor. His breathing was coming in uneven hitches and his face was stained with tears. One fist was clenched and the other hand pressed a square of paper to his chest tightly.

"Check the kids room," Simon sighed and Joel opened the door. The shock on the other man's face told Simon that the room was empty. Blair was gone, probably leaving a note for his partner and that was all. Jim looked like he'd been there all night and Simon wished he could get out of the damn chair and comfort the other man.

Most of his department had thought that the two men were lovers but Simon knew better, though he saw the potential for their relationship to go that way. Anyone who looked at Blair saw a man in love - the care and attention he lavished daily on his partner spoke of the commitment and depth of feeling he had for the tall cop. Jim had been harder to read until Simon realised the detective was controlling his feelings for the younger man, not wanting to risk the friendship on a chance at love.

The question now was would Jim manage to go on without his partner or would the senses and life in general overcome him? Simon had once asked if Jim would be able to do this without the other man and Jim had said no. Simon had hoped that his detective was wrong as Jim's abilities settled and grew. Now they'd find out the hard way.

"Hey there," the tender words startled Simon and he focussed on the present. Joel was kneeling next to Jim with a face cloth and wiping the tear tracks away gently. Jim's eyes had opened in response to the touch and Simon hated to see the hope in them die.

"Jim?" Simon asked just as quietly. Tired blue eyes tracked up to Simon's face and the paper was extended with the fist. Simon reached out. A bloody key was dropped into his hand and the paper was passed over anxiously. Simon read the words and closed his eyes in pain. The final declaration was too late to save either man, though if Jim's phenomenal eyes hadn't been blind to the man who loved him this wouldn't have come as a surprise.

"Help me," Jim sighed into the silence, "Help me find him and make it right. I destroyed him, Simon."

"You aren't the only one at fault, Jim," Simon replied firmly, "We'll do what we can."

Joel began the task of getting the other man up off the floor and cleaned up while Simon pulled his cell phone out and started making calls.

0o0o0

Jim Ellison scowled at the bursar and Simon wanted to tell the woman it was nothing personal. That particular expression had been on Jim's face for weeks. They'd found the sold Volvo and the storage room full of Sandburg's things. They'd gone to the University and Jim had gotten into a shouting match with Edwards that ended when his senses took over and he told her clearly what she'd had for breakfast, what shampoo and conditioner she used and the fact that since this morning she'd had sex on the couch in her office with two different people - and one was the secretary outside.

The woman looked like she was going to throw up and reluctantly agreed to cease her pursuit of damages from Sandburg and to allow Jim to pay off the young man's debts at the University. Jim had cashed in a bond or something - Simon wasn't sure, but he knew that it came from the trust fund that William Ellison had settled on his son at birth - and was currently waiting for the bursar to confirm the receipt of the money and the cancellation of Blair's debts.

The Volvo was currently at a garage that specialised in restoring old classics, getting repaired and cherried out. It would go into the storage space that Blair had rented to protect it from the weather. The space was empty at the moment. Jim had flashed his badge around and got the contents released. Blair's room looked like an office - neatly put back together, though the futon was up in the

couch position and Blair's abandoned clothes were in Jim's room. The scent of his Guide was a little stronger, though Jim wanted the fresh scent of the man on his clothes and furniture. He slept wrapped around Blair's pillow, tears wetting it as the Sentinel searched in his dreams for the man who loved him so much he'd give up everything. For the man he loved so much he felt only half alive without him. The senses were still there, but muted. Jim wouldn't try to stir them until his Guide was back in his arms for good.

The bursar looked up and nodded. Her smile was strained, but Jim didn't appear to notice.

"That's it, sir," she said in a quiet voice, "We've confirmed the transfer. Mr. Sandburg is now officially debt free to the University. Here's your receipt. Have a nice day."

The plastic words seemed to bounce off Jim as he took the offered receipt and offered a plastic smile of his own before walking out of the office. Simon offered their thanks and followed his detective out. Jim walked along with his head down, not paying attention to the rare sunshine and happy noises that the students and faculty made as they walked from class to class. Simon sighed, thinking that in many ways Jim had been disconnected from the people around him since Blair left. Their colleagues did their best, and in the field the man was a demon - fully focussed and consummately professional. But a lot of the world seemed to slide by Jim without impact.

"I got another call today," Simon told his friend, "I asked him to come back home again, but there was no answer."

Jim nodded. Simon had received a few calls from someone who just waited silently on the line. Simon was convinced it was Blair and gave the silent listener a brief update on Jim and the PD. He always asked for Blair to come home, but the caller hung up at that point. Jim had been there for one call and caught the distinctive heartbeat. He'd wept that night into Blair's pillow, unable to bear the thought that he'd driven his soul mate away with his fears and words.

"As longs as he's calling we'll know he's ok," Jim's words had the sound of prayer in them and Simon added a silent amen. Neither man wanted to think they'd never see Blair again. Once the young man had some time to recover he'd return - and until then Simon would continue to talk to his silent caller and ask him to come home.

0o0o0

Sheriff Anthony Carter sighed as he walked down the main street of his town. He just didn't need the aggravation today. His wife had walked out on him and the kids only four days ago to cavort with a travelling salesman - he felt like a sitcom character in a bad soap opera. The kids - they had five - were falling apart with grief and anger. The baby - Lanie - was bewildered and having night terrors and Bobby had stopped talking.

To top it all off a coach had broken down on its fuel stop and stranded its forty passengers until it could be repaired. They wandered up and down the main street, thronging along and complaining for the most part. Carter's small town didn't offer much in the way of diversion for what most of the people in this rural community would call city folk.

Carter waved at Mrs. Wilson and she smiled at him through the window of the library. Like most of the people in the town she was watching the reluctant tourists. The diner was full as the stranded people tried to get a meal and the regular customers tried to do the same. Carter went in behind the counter to help out, taking over the till so Millie could serve with her Aunt. Glancing through to the kitchen, Carter realised that there was a second cook in there - one of the tourists. Curly hair was tied back as the thin man worked quickly to prepare his portion of the orders next to Marcus. As if sensing the eyes on him the curly haired man looked up and grinned at the Sheriff, waving hello and then diving back into his tasks.

"Hey Millie, who's the kid?" Carter asked as the worst of the rush eased and she glanced back with a shrug.

"He asked for a days work and we were too rushed to say no. He knows his way around the kitchen and ignores Marcus when he growls. Aunt Sasha wasn't going to turn that down," Millie grinned, "And he's cheap - minimum wage!"

Carter chuckled and looked back at the whirling dervish that was now washing plates and glasses with quick efficiency. The young man was laughing at something that Marcus had growled and replying in a torrent of words that had the other man gaping and then grinning reluctantly. Anyone who could get that expression from the normally dour Marcus was all right and Carter turned his attention back to his own self appointed task.

One free but late lunch later Carter was back out on the main street, walking slowly past the library. A lot of their reluctant guests were in there now, reading the paper or a book from the shelves. Mrs Wilson presided at her desk with quiet authority, watching like a hawk to ensure that no damage or pilfering was done. She nodded with quiet authority at the Sheriff and turned to answer an inquiry after a particular book.

It was late afternoon by the time the bus was repaired and Carter watched with a few others as the passengers arrived eagerly to resume their journey. The curly haired man was there too, a ragged backpack over one shoulder and a tired expression on his face.

"Dad!" the sound of his oldest son's voice drew Carter's attention away for a moment. Harry and Bobby were on the other side of the street. He smiled at the boys and waved. Bobby pulled free of his brother's hand and ran out into the street to reach his father.

As if in slow motion Anthony Carter watched his son dash down the normally quiet road just as Brett Thompson roared around the corner in his new pickup - his friends in the truck with him as the boy showed off his new licence. The green pickup bore down on Bobby who was too fast for his brother to catch. Moving too fast to stop in time, Brett locked up the brakes as his friends screamed in horror. Terrified, Bobby stopped dead, staring at the metal monster hurtling towards him. A flash of ragged flannel cut in front of the bumper and then the truck was rolling over the place where Bobby was and Carter was listening to Harry's terrified screams and his own sobs.

The pickup screeched to a rough halt and the engine stalled. Brett fell out of the truck, crying and shaking as he went to his knees and screamed in horror, trying to see the child under the truck. There was stunned silence on the street as Carter stumbled forward, still sobbing and mumbling denials as he dropped down next to the teen.

"It's ok," the soothing voice that came from under the truck was so unexpected that Carter reared back in horror, "He's not hurt, he's ok."

As Carter watched the ragged flannel squirmed out from the truck, resolving into the curly haired short order cook that Sasha had hired at lunchtime. The man sat up and opened his arms, putting Bobby into his crying father's lap to be checked for injury and cuddled close. The young man's face was marred with gravel rash and there were new rips in his clothes, edged with blood. Harry thumped to his knees beside his father, hugging his little brother to him urgently and gasping out frantic apologies to them all for not watching his brother better.

The young man moved over to Brett, putting an arm around the shocked teen and talking in a calm voice. They rocked back and forth a little as Doc Winters arrived at a run from his surgery down the road. He checked Bobby over first and then Brett before turning to the gravel rash of the young man. Brett was refusing to let go of his comforter and when Bobby realised his saviour was moving away he cried even louder and reached for him.

"We should get out of the street," the light tenor voice broke through Carter's shock and made him aware of the curious eyes in the street. He nodded and got up; carrying Bobby while Harry clung to his back. Brett was urged upright and the young man winced his way to his feet, limping along slowly as they walked the block to the doctor's surgery.

One of Carter's deputies, Walter Phillip, met them there, asking in a quiet voice if Bobby was ok and then settling down to get statements from everyone. When he got to the young man he got a tired smile and a wince as Winters finished wrapping his arm in bandages.

"Let's start with your name, sir," Phillips smiled, sitting down so the other didn't have to peer up at him.

"Blair Sandburg."

0o0o0

Carter opened his eyes and winced. His arms were asleep from where Lanie and Bobby were leaning into him. They'd both screamed the household awake and the twins, Sam and Alice, had climbed into bed with him as well, followed later by a sheepish Harry. The bed was full of children and for a moment Carter's anger at his wife overcame him. How could she leave her babies behind like this - didn't

she know they needed her?

His words of gratitude and praise to the young Blair Sandburg - though in reality the man was only a few years younger than Carter - had garnered a surprise. When asked if there was anything Carter could do for him the young man had shrugged wryly.

"I need a job," the words were quiet and the look in his eyes said he wasn't expecting anything. Carter wondered what the man had been through to put that pain in his eyes.

"One of my Deputies just quit. You're hired. I've got a room above the garage you can rent," Carter had replied and gathered his son's up, "I'll take you there now."

The surprise in the other man's face was not faked, nor was the apprehension. Carter intended to check his references today and hoped to God that his child's saviour would be staying in town. Good people were hard to find, and they needed them here. With the highway being extended in their area and a new bar opening up soon the loss of a Deputy was a hard blow. Anyone who'd risk himself for a stranger like that and then turn around and offer comfort and support to a shattered teen despite his own injuries would be a good member of the community.

The scent of breakfast wafted up the stairs, and for a moment Carter thought it was all ok. He was alone with the children because Sarah had gone downstairs to start breakfast for them all. Then Lanie stirred and called for her mother in the despairing tone of a child that knew mommy was gone. Anger gave Carter the energy to kiss his daughter back to peace and then stir the children awake gently. Harry slipped away first, embarrassed at being in his father's bed like a child instead of the twelve year old front he put up to the world. The girls followed, heading for the bathroom and Lanie went with them.

Bobby sat up and looked over at his father quietly. The solemn face was heartbreaking and Carter pulled his boy into a deep hug, rocking them on the bed for a little while. Harry and Sam reappeared in the doorway.

"Dad?" Sam's voice was curious and he smiled at the way her hair was spiked from sleeping, "Who's cooking breakfast?"

"Do you think it's Blair?" Harry added, his mouth visibly watering at the tasty smells. Carter let go of Bobby who was smiling at the mention of the other man's name. They both got up and walked for the door.

"Maybe," Carter mused, "We slept in this morning. I guess the guy got hungry."

Blair had barely said hello to the children last night, as the pain and the adrenaline cut into him. Carter had ushered his guest to the cluttered room over the garage with an armful of linen and directions to the bathroom. The coach driver had left a battered duffel behind for Sandburg to pick up and Carter had left the man asleep on the lumpy mattress on the floor. Making a mental note to see that the room was cleared out a bit better today and the good mattress dragged out of storage, Carter picked up Lanie and headed down the stairs.

He knew that Blair had missed dinner last night, and he also knew that they needed to go shopping. There was no bread and various items in the fridge were nearing their use-by date. Carter hadn't had the time or inclination to shop in the last four days; he'd been too busy trying to hold his family together. Hoping the man had managed to leave enough fixings for the rest of the family Carter led the way into the large airy kitchen that was flooded with morning sun.

"Can we keep him?" Alice's whisper brought a smile to Carter's face and earned a giggle from her twin. The large table was set with placemats and the usual settings. There was a plate of flapjacks warming by the stove and as they watched the chef scraped a huge mound of scrambled eggs into a bowl. The bacon that had been on the verge of going off was pulled from the oven and both plates were whisked over to the table, followed by the flapjacks. A jug of juice - Carter noted absently that the fruit bowl was now empty - appeared from the fridge.

"Good morning," the light voice smiled at them, "I hope you don't mind. I was hungry and figured I might as well fix breakfast for everyone."

"I don't mind," Sam's emphatic voice broke the tableau as the children scrambled to their places and sat down. Carter put Lanie in her high chair and then sat in his accustomed chair. For a moment he felt a pang of regret that the smiling face opposite wasn't his wife's, then he grinned.

"Can we keep you?" Alice repeated her question as a serving of bacon and eggs appeared on her plate. Blair laughed and poured her some juice, glancing across at her father for a moment.

"Maybe for a couple of days," he temporised, "I've got to get some work."

"Oh," Alice frowned, and Blair changed the subject quietly, before she could brood or ask further questions.

"I kind of emptied the fridge with all this," he told Carter who nodded, and decided to take advantage of the help while he could. It would get the kids out of the house so he could do the reference check and also give him a chance to pack away the things his wife had abandoned when she left with her salesman. The good vibes he was getting from the older man told him the children would be safe. Not wanting to think too deeply about why he trusted this stranger with the most precious people in his life, Carter took a mouthful of the coffee that he'd poured before sitting down.

"Would you mind going shopping? The kids can show you what we normally get," Carter watched the understanding dawn on Blair's face and the quick nod of acceptance.

"You can take the car - it's a bit of a drive I'm afraid," John continued and Blair grinned, shrugging his shoulder lightly.

"No problem," he replied and turned to supervise as Bobby lifted a pancake from the stack to his plate. Bobby smiled at the curly haired man and pointed to the syrup.

"Bobby doesn't talk - ever since mother left," Harry said quietly, "We have to kind of guess what he wants."

A strong slender hand ruffled Bobby's hair gently and a quiet smile crossed the other man's face. For a moment Carter thought that the man opposite him was remembering his own period of silence. Wildly curious about Sandburg's past and what had led the man here, the Sheriff itched to start dialling through the contacts that Sandburg had promised for him this morning.

"Bobby will talk when he's ready to," the calm statement bore no trace of concern or curiosity, "Won't you Bobby?"

Bobby nodded and concentrated on dribbling syrup all over his flapjack.

0o0o0

Walter Phillips handed the badge to his boss and sat down opposite him at the table. John Laws move to Tacoma had put a strain on the department, but Phillips was unsure why his boss was so adamant about hiring this total stranger.

"Read this," Carter nodded to his deputy, "Sandburg left it for me this morning after I asked for his references."

Letting the coffee that Carter had poured him cool, Phillips took the proffered piece of paper and read all about the declared fraud Blair Sandburg. He frowned when he finished and looked up at Carter.

"Tony, I don't see what…" Phillips began, but his boss interrupted.

"Walt, I called Cascade and told them I was checking his references at the request of a potential employer. The Captain of Major Crimes himself got on the phone and swore on his son's life that despite what had happened Blair Sandburg was a man of honour and integrity and could be trusted to guard the President himself. He said that they were on the verge of offering Sandburg a place with their own unit but the man left town before they could do it. He said that Sandburg was the best cop he'd ever come across and told me to tell the man that and tell him to get his butt home right now because his partner's solve rate was declining from a hundred percent to ninety five," Carter leaned forward, "If he's good enough to be a detective in a city like Cascade we can sure as hell use him here. The new bar alone is going to push our problems up the wall, let alone the highway extension. I'm not going to pass that message on Walter. You got a problem with that?"

"And the fraud?" Walter didn't want to talk the guy out of a job, and if Tony accepted the guy so would he, but he felt he had to raise the issue at least once. Tony smiled at his deputy and pushed his empty cup to one side. Walt didn't have a problem with it.

"I have a feeling there's more to that story than meets the eye. He didn't try to hide it, and I really think it won't matter out here. He cooked us breakfast this morning, Walt. For the first time since Sarah left us my kids started the day smiling and happy. He's taken them grocery shopping now and I can almost guarantee you that they'll be happy when they come back. No liar or cheat could get my kids smiling like that," Tony sat back and watched Phillips think it through. He knew he'd do almost anything to get his kids to be their happy selves again, but his gut wouldn't steer him wrong.

"So, what's his size - do you know?" Phillips asked, pushing the paper back to his boss, who screwed it up and threw it away, "I'll get him a couple of uniforms from the pool. And was he licensed to carry a gun in Cascade?"

"No, he'll have to qualify here," Tony replied, "And there's his clothes above the garage. That will tell us his size. Let's go."

The Sheriff didn't let on his relief as his Deputy planned the inclusion of the new man. Things would be much easier for Sandburg if at least one of the other Deputies were ready to include him in the team. They were putting the last of the boxes of Sarah's stuff in the storage space in loft of the house when Tony's car pulled into the driveway and Blair beeped the horn once, gently.

"Dad!" Harry called, jumping from the car and dashing inside, "Bobby spoke! He said thank you to Blair for the ice-cream he bought us all!"

Tony's heart lightened and he hurried out, Walt at his back as the rest of the kids piled out and started collecting packages from the car. Lanie was given a small tin of sweet corn to walk into the kitchen with and Bobby smiled up at his father over the bag of dried fruit that he was carrying.

"Hey kiddo," Tony smiled at his son, and felt his heart break at the soft 'hey dad' that trailed over Bobby's shoulder on his way into the house. Sam and Alice were grinning fit to burst over the bags they were humping and Blair grinned over at his host as well, shrugging in response to the wondering look he got.

0o0o0

Lanie's cries tore him from his sleep and the dream of his mother holding him close and promising to stay. Bobby bit his lips as his father's footsteps hurried past his door and his sisters woke up. He heard the creak that meant Sam had climbed in with Alice and wished that he had a twin to climb in with too.

Harry slipped out of their shared room to go help their father, making Bobby feel abandoned and cold.

Tears spilled down the little boys cheeks as his baby sister sobbed in fear. He stuffed his hands over his ears, but he could still hear the cries. With a sob of his own Bobby snatched back the covers and ran from the room, down the corridor and down the stairs. There was a light on above the garage and Bobby pounded up the stairs, scrabbling for balance and sobbing his own pain out.

"Who's there?" Blair's voice was firm and calm and Bobby threw himself around the divider and onto the bed where Blair was sitting with a book. The book tumbled to the floor and strong hands caught and steadied him.

"Mommy!" Bobby wailed and gentle arms held him close. He buried his face in the warm neck and felt the soothing rocking motion that the body beneath him started. Comforting noises poured over his head and Bobby just let it all go.

Losing himself in the grief and pain Bobby trusted to the person holding him to be kept safe and warm.

Two hours later Blair looked up over the head of the boy who'd cried himself to sleep in his arms. Tony stood in the doorway, his own face lined with grief as he stared at his youngest son. Lanie had only just gone back to sleep properly and that had freed him to check on his other children. The empty bed had frightened him for a moment, until a glance out the window showed Blair's light still on. Some instinct had led the man to his newest Deputy's room and his face softened at the sight of his child nestled so trustingly against that warm chest.

"Sorry, Blair. Lanie's nightmares must have spooked him," Tony whispered and Blair shrugged, not stopping the rocking motion he'd used to calm the child down.

"He's facing a few of his own," Blair replied, "I know how scary the night terrors can be. I wasn't asleep when he came up."

As they spoke Tony was reaching for his son, gathering him up tenderly as Blair settled the boy securely in his fathers arms. The slight jostling woke the boy and he opened his eyes in fright.

"Mommy!" he blurted and launched himself back at Blair. Tony gaped at his son in bewilderment. Blair caught the young body easily and hugged it gently before pulling back to smooth a hand over the boy's face.

"Hey short stuff," Blair smiled, "It was just a bad dream. Time to go back to your own bed now."

"Can't I stay with you Mommy?" Bobby looked up with his best begging face and Blair blinked at him in astonishment. He'd assumed the first time the boy had called him that it was because the child was still half asleep. He looked up at Tony nervously, who shrugged in reply. There wasn't much they could do about it now and to argue the name with the child would just rile him up further.

"Sorry, son. Blair needs his sleep," Tony said firmly, trying not to give in when his son gripped the ratty shirt that Blair was wearing hard.

"But the bad dreams will come back," Bobby's whisper was soft and sad, "Please Mommy."

"Come on," Blair got out of bed and headed for the door with the boy in his arms, "I know just the trick to keep the bad dreams away."

He started down the stairs with Tony behind him, still speaking in a soothing croon that had Bobby half asleep almost straight away. They crossed the short path to the house and went inside without pause.

"In a country called China, they believe that if you save someone's life once you are responsible for them for the rest of your life. You become their Blessed Protector. I saved you from the truck so I am your Blessed Protector and I know how to keep the bad dreams away. You'll be safe when you sleep, I promise Bobby. You can let go honey."

Blair laid the boy in his bed, ignoring the confused teen for a moment to settle his charge while Tony watched with bated breath. The pure trust on his son's face caught his breath while he waited to see what Blair would do next.

The curly haired man pulled the covers into order and settled the child on his side. Then he blew lightly in Bobby's ears and across his eyes.

"No bad dreams in here," Blair whispered lightly, "I've blown them all away. Only good dreams left - happy and safe ones. Sleep tight Bobby."

"Sleep tight Mommy," the little voice drowsed back and Tony watched his son fall asleep in moments. Blair smiled over at Harry and got up off his knees. He moved around Tony and walked back along the corridor, listening as the father and teen said goodnight to each other.

"Blair!" Tony's whisper and hurried footsteps stopped the other man at the door to the kitchen. He turned and smiled in the moonlight streaming in the windows.

"Thanks," Tony smiled, "Look, I'm sorry about the Mommy thing. I'll tell him to stop ok?"

"I don't mind it," Blair shrugged, "If it bothers you he should stop, but if it gets him talking again…"

"You sure? He's said more to you than to any of us. I don't want him to stop talking 'cos I told him to stop calling you that. Truth is, Sarah wasn't a real nurturing kind of mother. If they had nightmares or got sick it was me who took care of them. I thought that she was happy being the wife of the Sheriff and the mother of our babies, but…well, we weren't enough for her," Tony turned away, not willing to see the pity he knew would be in Blair's eyes. A hand on his arm had him glancing up into warm understanding.

"They can call me golly wampus for all I care," Blair smiled, "I like your kids, Tony. They've got a lot of character. Guess they get it from you, huh?"

"Yeah," Tony grinned reluctantly, "Hey, where did you learn that blowing trick? Your dad do that for you?"

"I don't know my father," Blair smiled, though there was a shadow suddenly present in his normally clear eyes, "But someone special did teach me that one. Goodnight, Tony."

Blair walked back to his own room, trying not to think of Lash and the man who'd performed that ritual for the terrified victim who had still to come down from the cocktail he'd been forced to take. Wiping his face absently, Blair got into bed and turned out the light.

0o0o0

Chapter Two

"Good morning Mommy," Harry grinned at the very rumpled figure at the kitchen table. His 'mother' peeled one eye open for a glare and grunted before huddling over his coffee cup. Harry put his school bag down and started pulling out the weekly round of newsletters and notices, placing them in the middle of the table.

"Mommy!" Alice bounced into the kitchen, "You're up!"

"Barely," Harry laughed, "Let the man have his coffee - he's on duty in a couple of hours."

"Are you having dinner with us?" Alice continued, "I hate it when you're on night shift. We only get cereal and toast for breakfast."

"That's called cupboard love," Blair told the child in amusement and sat up straighter, "How was school today? Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Some," Alice grimaced. The piano in the front room started up, scales pounding viciously from the old upright. Blair's eyes widened in concern. He couldn't believe the way the family had taken to him - making him one of their own in a matter of days. The name that Bobby had christened him with had stuck - the older children using it with a kind of glee; the younger one's tenderer about the name. At Blair's suggestion Tony had put pictures of Sarah up in the family room and in the children's room as well so they wouldn't forget their true mother.

Half the children in the town called him Mommy now - some in spite, some in amusement. Blair didn't mind them using it- it desensitised him to the name.

Several of the deputies and the civilian who ran dispatch were calling him that too - but there was affection in their tones when they did. At least they weren't calling him Hairboy, or Chief. Blair couldn't have stood it if those two names had come back to haunt him.

"Sam had a bad day? What happened?" Blair got up, abandoning his coffee in the sink. Sam was the musician of the family and usually managed to make the scales sound like a song in their right. Alice sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. Despite the fact that Sam had the shortened name, Alice was the tomboy of the two - preferring to be outside and active. Sam enjoyed reading inside more or up in the branches of the old cherry tree outside the windows to Blair's room. Tree climbing was Sam's one outside passion - in fact she'd climb anything. But once she got to the top she usually wanted to settle in and finish her book.

"She had a fight with Mrs Peal. Mrs Peal said she couldn't borrow the book she wanted, because she was too young," Alice reported. Mrs Peal was the school librarian and the exact opposite of the warm Mrs Wilson who ran the town library. Blair nodded and went out to the front room.

Sam's cheeks were stained with tears as she pounded out the scales with efficient fury. Blair caught her hands easily and the piano was silenced.

"I think the piano's sorry for being naughty," Blair teased, pleased to get an unwilling smile from the frustrated child. She leaned into his side and he dropped an arm around her back. He rubbed soothing circles between the young shoulders and waited for her to speak. When Alice was upset you had to ask her outright - when Sam was upset you had to wait for her to tell you what was going on.

"I hate Mrs Peal!" Sam burst out after a moment, "I'm not a baby! I could have read that book! I read the whole page she asked me to and that still wasn't good enough. She went back on her word and it's not fair!"

"Shh," Blair sighed, "What was the book?"

"It was just a stupid Harry Potter book!" Sam slammed her hands on the keys, making the instrument jangle in outrage, "It's not fair!"

Blair caught her around the waist and pulled her away to sit on one of the good couches with her in his lap. He rocked until the overwrought child calmed down and then waited a little longer to make sure she had regained her composure. Sam's reading abilities were well above average and her father had given her several books that were just as difficult as Harry Potter.

"I can't make Mrs Peal let you take the book out, but maybe it's in the town library," Blair said quietly, "Why don't you ask your dad what he thinks tonight? He could write a letter to Mrs Wilson if you like, to make sure that you can take it out."

"You think?" the small voice was tinged with hope. Blair smiled and ducked to look her in the eye.

"What can it hurt to ask?" he said lightly, "Go wash your face and hands honey. Then you can try practicing again."

Sam got up and headed out with a little smile. Blair sighed and sat back at the piano, playing a quick scale to check that it hadn't lost its tune. The scale morphed into the 'Moonlight Sonata' and he played the piece through carefully. Sam returned at the end and with a mischievous smile Blair broke into 'Heart and Soul' letting the little girl play duet with him and swapping the parts around.

"Enough!" Blair laughed at the end, "I've got dinner to cook. Where's Bobby?"

"In the kitchen with Harry," Sam replied, smiling happily. As Blair left the room the scales started again, smooth and calm, as they should be. Bobby greeted him with smiles and hugs, telling his Mommy about the class trip that was being planned in an excited voice. Blair grinned and listened as he started dinner, keeping an eye on the homework at the table while he did.

0o0o0

Simon watched closely as Jim walked the crime scene, his head turning left and right as he sought clues that would give them a place to start. While the Sentinel's skills were still there, they were muted and Simon didn't know how to boost them. It was rather like running a computer with half the drive space suddenly missing. You got the same results but at a much slower pace and with a lot more effort.

"Nothing," Jim sighed, coming back to his boss, "Forensics was very thorough. Sorry Simon."

"Stop with the apologies," Simon growled, "You did your best."

The truth was that Jim was managing. He'd adjusted to the lack in his life, much the way a husband would during a divorce. He wasn't moping or pining in the traditional sense - he remained healthy and active - it was more the occasional flash of pain in his eyes as something reminded him of the lost Guide. Blair's continued silent calls spoke of the other man's pain as well, but Simon's entreaties had yet to yield a result. Simon had toyed with the idea of lying - of getting Blair back with a fabricated emergency - but had realised the young man wouldn't stay once he realised what had happened.

His message to their missing friend via the Sheriff that had rung mustn't have been passed on either. Blair would have at least sent a message via e-mail if he knew they were holding a place for him. Something had held Simon back from mentioning it over the phone - it felt too much like he was pressuring his friend unfairly, like the lie.

Simon had thought of calling the Sheriff and asking about Sandburg, but had held off on that too. Part of him didn't want to know if their friend had already moved on - it was a comforting thought to imagine him working in the rural community, though what sort of job a Shaman/Guide/anthropologist would do out there was beyond him.

Simon dragged his attention back to Jim, studying the slump of the shoulders and wondering why he was particularly depressed today. Inspiration hit him at once.

It was Jim's birthday soon - his colleagues were taking him out to dinner that evening. Blair was not there and Jim must not have received any sign that his Guide and best friend even remembered the date.

"So, Jim," Simon decided a distraction was in order, "What do you think of the new guy?"

Blair's position not-withstanding, the Commissioner had increased their personnel allotment by one, which meant that until Sandburg claimed his badge they had what the team was referring to as a 'temp' in. For some reason most temps only lasted a few weeks with the department. Major Crimes was a coveted assignment, but the temps just didn't seem to stay. Simon could find no real reason for this - his people were friendly and professional to the newcomers.

Jim only threatened to shoot one of them, and that was under extreme circumstances. That didn't stop the team from forming a pool on how long each temp would last and why they were leaving. No one had won the last one yet, because no one had figured out the reason why.

It worked. Jim smiled a little and his footsteps lightened as they headed for Simon's sedan.

0o0o0

Blair rested a hand on his hip and frowned at the irate man in front of him, wondering why - if the weather vane on the top of his garage was always being stolen - he continued to replace the stupid things. The empty spot on his belt where his gun should have been was a comforting non-weight. Blair had agreed to qualify and Tony had agreed to let him leave the gun in the weapons cache at the courthouse. The town didn't really require armed men and women to defend it - and Blair was a better talker than fighter, he'd proved that when he talked a bar full of people out of punching the living snot out of a con man. Then he'd arrested the con and allowed the people to line up to detail the charges they wanted to lay.

"I want it stopped, dammit," Mr. Perkins was insisting. He'd retired out here from the insurance business and didn't seem well liked by his neighbours - something that made them the prime suspects in this case. His house was…different. Where everyone else had well kept, comfortable yards and neat buildings Mr Perkins had military correct plants and catalogue perfect house. In a street of laid-back dwellings it made the house stand out.

Walter Phillips tried to placate the irate man, while Blair glanced around the street. A small movement caught his eye and he headed over for the giggling group of children semi hiding across the road.

"Hey guys," Blair grinned, "Hey Sam."

"Hi Mommy," Sam smiled back - her best brilliant smile that immediately gave the game away. Blair rolled his eyes at the man shouting at Walter and then looked back at the children.

"Let me guess, you're sneaking out at night to do this," he told them firmly and bit down on a grin when they couldn't meet his eyes, "Can I ask why you bother? What have you done with them all?"

"They're in our garage, hidden at the back," Sam told him calmly, "And we do it because he's a jerk. He keeps your ball if it goes over the fence and yells at you to be quiet. C'mon, Mommy, it's just a bit of fun. Besides, none of the grown ups like him either!"

"That's not the point and what if your dad finds them, huh? He's the Sheriff, Sam. He'd be put in a very bad position if this came out," Blair managed to scold, though all he wanted to do was lie down and laugh.

"Ok, I won't tell your parents if every single one of those weather vanes are returned to Mr. Perkins in good condition. You didn't damage them did you?"

Blair's frown wasn't faked - the weather vanes were made of metal and any damaged pieces would be sharp.

"No, they just sit on the pole sticking up from his garage roof," Sam sighed, "We'll put them all back ok? But you'll have to cover for me if dad notices I'm gone, Mommy."

"Are you attempting to coerce an officer of the law young lady? I'll do it. And you'll be doing extra chores for a week," Blair replied firmly and headed back to where Walter and Mr Perkins were standing. They wrapped things up and Blair laughed all the way back to the station.

Sure enough, the next morning Mr Perkins was on the phone again, and Walter and Blair were once more sent out to his house. The former insurance salesman was on the immaculate front lawn, gaping at the roof of his garage. Ten weather vanes were perched on it, lined up one after the other. Walter shot Blair a suspicious look and went to talk to the homeowner while Blair glanced over at the crowd of neighbours and friends who had come to gape at the sight too.

Sam and her friends were staring at the roof in bewilderment. They had laid the weather vanes out carefully on the front lawn last night and tiptoed away again. The children looked over at Deputy Mommy and snickered in understanding when he solemnly winked at them. Sam's eyes shone with astonished pride as he turned back to talk to the homeowner about the neighbour hood children's property.

0o0o0

Jim let the door of the loft shut slowly behind him, tracing the sound of the taxi and his singing colleagues as the poor driver went to the next place on the list. The silence of his empty home pressed on his ears for a moment as he hung up his coat and chained the door. The mail he'd collected on his way up spilled from his coat pocket and he sighed gustily, bending double to pick it up. A longed for scent teased his nose and suddenly Jim was on his knees, scrabbling among the envelopes for the postcard. Blair's handwriting leapt up at him and he shuddered, reading the message on there eagerly.

/Happy Birthday big guy. Take care of yourself. Love the guppy./

Tears blurred Jim's eyes for a moment and he flipped the card to see what the picture was. It was a printed card from a chemist - one of those where you brought a photo to be scanned in and they printed it onto a postcard for you.

The picture was of Jim and Blair together, fishing - the picture Simon had taken on the trip they'd run into poachers.

Jim left the rest of the mail where it was and carried the card up to his room, to stow it carefully with the last note and the now cleaned house key. There was also the postcard Blair had sent from Miami to say I love you and thank you for paying the college debts, though Jim had no doubt his Guide would have something to say about that when he returned to Cascade. He sat on the bed to undo his shoes and then sighed when the phone rang.

"I should have taken the batteries from their phones," Jim muttered, thinking it was Brown or one of the others calling to see if he was all right. His drunken colleagues had mentioned their concern for him - returning to an empty loft.

They had also been debating finding another bar, though Jim hoped the driver would stick to his guns and refuse to take them to one.

"I'm fine, H. I just want to get some sleep, ok?" Jim snapped, the beers he'd had making him a bit testier than he'd meant to sound. There was a moment's silence on the line and Jim hesitated. He hadn't meant to snap at some innocent.

"That's good to hear big guy," Blair's voice was quiet with pain, "I just rang to say happy birthday. Get some rest, ok - you've got work tomorrow. I love you."

"Oh, Chief, I lo…"

The dial tone sounded in Jim's ear and for a moment he was furious. Yelling in rage, he threw the phone across the room, watching it smash into the wall quite happily. Then he realised that if Blair relented and called back he wouldn't be able to answer the phone. Cursing, Jim sat on the stairs and put his head in his hands. A few minutes of deep breathing showed Jim what Blair had meant by the call and he rubbed his face to clear the cobwebs.

Blair hadn't rung to hurt Jim - he'd called out of love, not wanting his birthday to pass unremarked by them. The postcard showed that he had some photos of the two of them together, and that heartened Jim - Blair hadn't forgotten his Sentinel.

Sighing, Jim got up and walked up to his cold bed to undress and curl around the much-abused pillow. It was a very poor substitute for the longed for body, but it would have to do. Jim closed his eyes and dreamed that the man he loved, the man he had destroyed was back in his life and in his arms where he belonged.

0o0o0

Blair sighed and looked over at the clock above the door. Falling down the basement stairs here on the way to the archives hadn't been fun; the sprained ankle that had him manning the front desk was even less fun. He let his hand brush through his long hair, tied back as usual with a leather thong. His shift would be up soon and he'd be able to mooch a lift from someone. At least he'd gotten out of another stretch of night shift, though Tony would probably give him a double stretch next month.

At first there had been some friction with the other deputies - they had thought that because Blair lived in the Sheriff's garage and took care of the Sheriff's kids he would get special treatment. Tony had made sure that hadn't happened, though he had made sure that they didn't do nightshift at the same time - that way one of them was always available during the night for the kids.

The Carter family had taken Blair in as if he was one of their own. He was astonished by the way the children had accepted him - a part of him saw the possibility for friction as Bobby had adopted him as a substitute mother. The others hadn't seemed to mind and Blair had filled a little niche with each of them. For Harry it was computers - what little expertise Blair had he passed on with a good will. Sam and music went hand in hand - something Blair could handle in his sleep. Alice liked the basketball they played on the driveway in front of the garage - Blair taught her what tricks he had and encouraged her to try out for the school team. Bobby wanted a friend - someone to watch over him during this insecure time and Blair's legend of the Blessed Protector had certainly filled that need. Lanie wanted a storyteller - Tony could read to her, but couldn't make one up on the spot. The tales were full of laughter and nonsense for the little girl - for the older children Blair told adventures starring them.

In a way the Carter's had filled a niche for Blair to. At a time when the man he loved hadn't seemed to need or even want him around, Blair had met a family of people who did need and want him. Their father was their safety and security, but Blair was their toy. Alice's wish of 'keeping him' had come true, to the mutual satisfaction of all parties.

The community had accepted Blair as well. No fool he - the young man had sought out the elders of the community first, and that had led to introductions to entire families, not to mention a wealth of gossip. Both services had allowed Blair to avoid the pitfalls that waited most newcomers - the social gaffes and unwitting insults that would have been an obstacle to his acceptance. Of course, the fact that he had thrown himself in front of a truck to save a strangers child didn't hurt.

"Hey hop along," Walter grinned, coming to lean on the front desk next to Blair, "Wool gathering again?"

"Yeah, I need a new sweater," Blair laughed at his colleague, "So far I've got enough for a sleeve, but I figure this ankle will give me enough time to gather the rest."

"Yeah, we're not exactly inundated with callers at the moment," Walter laughed back, "You want a lift home?"

"Yes please," Blair nodded, and put on a country accent, "That would be right kindly of you."

Walter laughed and cuffed Blair along the back of the head before yanking the ponytail and walking away.

'What is it with cops and my hair,' Blair mused idly as he returned his attention to the view out the front door, 'Maybe it's a cop thing - see long hair, tease owner. Kind of like see the man…'

0o0o0

"So you think he's moved on?" Simon frowned, "I want this guy, detective."

"I realise that Simon, but he's missed the next slot in his pattern," Jim sighed and looked down at the file, "He's either dead, he's left the city, or he doesn't need to do this any more."

"The profiler from San Francisco feels that the guy will probably start up again somewhere else - either begin small like he did here or continue on from where he left off," Megan backed Jim up and Simon grimaced, knowing which outcome he was rooting for.

This guy had been a weirdo from the start. A woman had called 911 in hysterics over several hickies that had appeared on her body overnight. She wasn't currently dating and had been home all evening in chat rooms on the Internet.

Blood work revealed she'd been chloroformed and then whoever this was had made the hickey's on her arm. Several weeks later a young man had called with the same attack method. Two weeks later another victim - but this time there had been anal penetration using a toy of some kind. There was another two weeks gap and then another penetration - this time his victim had been raped in the traditional sense. The rapes got more and more violent, though the victims were unconscious the entire time. The last one had been slashed with a kitchen knife and left to bleed - a recently ex lover had turned up to surprise the victim with roses and a marriage proposal. This victim was still in hospital and likely to remain there for some time.

"We're sending bulletins to all the law enforcement agencies in the area as well as the Federal agencies in case he starts up in another state entirely," Jim closed his file slowly, "That's really all we can do. We'll keep a sharp watch here of course, but …"

"Understood," Simon sighed, "Ok, get on with it then. Megan, you're in court tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Megan nodded and Jim stood, leaving them to their discussion. He got the ball rolling for the bulletin to go out and sat looking at Blair's picture for a moment. It was a candid shot of his love, sitting Indian fashion on the couch with a book in his lap. The ankh at his throat was visible and his blue eyes flashed behind his glasses. His hair was down, framing his face. He was grinning at the man behind the camera - Jim remembered that he'd made some stupid remark that had got Blair to lift his head and he'd snapped the shot before Blair had seen the camera.

His Guide had then chased him around the loft, throwing cushions. Jim smiled, remembering the rare afternoon of peace they'd had together - one of the few after the fountain. Pulling his thoughts back to the present with a sigh, Jim straightened and took out some of the paperwork that never seemed to go as quickly for him as it had for Blair. Hoping his soul mate was warm and happy; Jim dove into the hated task.

0o0o0

'One good thing about a sprained ankle,' Blair mused to himself, 'I can finally get this system installed properly.'

The station had new computers sitting in one of the unused offices, waiting for the budget to be able to afford a technician to install them. Blair's past experience was a cheap alternative, and Harry had been enlisted to help after school, much to his delight. Blair was teaching the boy everything he knew about setting up a network and trouble shooting the software on the computers. The boy was eating it up with a spoon and eager for more. Tony was contemplating a machine for home - one that could be used for homework as well as leisure. He planned to take Harry shopping for it, making it Harry's responsibility.

The old computers were a nightmare - slow and cantankerous with outmoded software. The Sheriff's department was computer literate, but sick of using the dinosaurs they were lumbered with.

Blair crawled painfully out from under Tony's desk and switched the computer on. It chimed and started up obediently.

"Ok, Harry, you can add your dad to the network!" Blair yelled and got up, clutching the desk for balance and reaching for his crutches. Harry came in and grinned at his friend before sitting in his father's chair to begin setting up the computer from this end.

"Ah ha! Competition! And my own son too!" Tony came in and hung up his coat and hat. Harry rolled his eyes at the melodramatics and otherwise ignored his father. Blair laughed and hobbled past his boss, intent on getting one more computer wired up correctly before his shift was over.

"Hey Sandburg - take it easy for a minute," Tony followed him out, "How's the ankle?"

"Peachy," Blair grinned back, wiping his face with his hand. Tony pulled out a chair and pushed his deputy into it.

"Uh huh," he snorted, "Which translated into English means throbbing like crazy because you're putting too much strain onto it."

Blair laughed up at him, waving his hands around like he was batting away insects.

"You wound me sir!" he laughed, "Honestly Tony, I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself."

"Why can't you let us help?" Tony asked without really meaning too, "You give so much to us, why can't we give back?"

A serious expression came over Blair - a mixture of understanding and sadness. Tony hated that expression - he often saw it on his friend late at night or just after he made one of those silent phone calls that Tony had traced back to Blair's old captain in Cascade.

"I've looked after myself for a long time, Tony. Sometimes it's easier to be self-reliant. It's not like I don't know you'd help me when I need it. It's easier to give than receive I guess," Blair sighed, and decided to change the subject before he totally embarrassed himself.

"I want to get another computer on line before we go tonight, ok? It shouldn't take too long."

"Yeah," Tony nodded, resigned to the end of the discussion, "You'd better get going then, or I'll leave without you!"

Blair crossed his eyes in response and got up, his blue uniform outlining his slender frame for a moment. Tony clapped him on the shoulder and headed into his office to watch his son at work. With a bit of luck the kid would be the next Bill Gates and he could retire to live in luxury.

0o0o0

Blair read through the bulletin from Cascade with a heavy heart. Young Suzy Mallard had woken her parents with her screams this morning. She had several hickies on her arms and shoulders. He handed it to Tony who grimaced in disgust and slammed the paper down on his desk.

"No way is that sicko bastard doing this to my town," he snarled, "Sandburg - do you have the number for Major Crimes? I want their files right now."

"They'll want to send a few officers out," Blair said as he circled the number for Tony and sat back. Tony looked at him long and hard, then got up and closed the door.

"Can you deal with that?" he asked in a calmer voice. Blair rolled his eyes and grinned at his boss.

"If I'd thought there was a place for me there, I'd have joined the PD in Cascade," he revealed, thinking about seeing his old friends, "I guess it wasn't meant to be. Time to stop hiding, Tony. I'm ready to see them."

"Actually," Tony felt a little sick, "There was a place for you…your old Captain told me that…I didn't pass the message on…"

"What?" the whispered word and white face struck the Sheriff like a blow, "Tony…how could you not tell me?"

"I needed you. You made such a difference to the kids in the few hours you spent with them. I was hurting so bad from Sarah leaving that I couldn't give them everything they needed…god Blair, I'm sorry. It was a selfish thing to do."

Blair stared at the table top with dead eyes, trying to work through it all. His friends would think he was some kind of two-faced jerk - turning down the job in Cascade but choosing to work here as a deputy. Jim would never forgive him…never speak to him again…and Blair had been planning a trip to Cascade for his own birthday present…all he'd wanted was a glimpse…

"BLAIR!" Tony's voice shocked Blair out of his own version of a zone and he blinked up at his friend in a daze. Tony's face was pale and concerned.

"Sorry, got lost in my thoughts," Blair brushed the other man's hands from his arms and sighed, "It's ok, Tony. I'll deal with it. We're ok too - you did what you had to."

Tony watched his deputy hobble out and sighed, cursing himself for a selfish bastard and wondering how long Blair would stay now that he knew what Tony had done. Tony steeled himself for the unpleasantness that was to come and picked up the phone. As he dialled an idea came to mind. Maybe there was a way to smooth things over before the people from Cascade even left their city.

0o0o0

Chapter Three

"Ellison! My office!" Simon's roar cut through the usual din of the bullpen in full swing and Jim hurried from his desk in response to the urgency in Simon's tone. The speakerphone was on and Jim sat down quietly.

"Sheriff Carter, this is Detective Ellison. He was our lead man on this case," Simon said and Jim said hello, listening to the tight baritone that replied. This other man was nervous about something, and so was Simon.

"Sheriff Carter thinks he has our killer in his town, Jim. One of his deputies spotted the bulletin. There was an attack this morning," Simon filled the Sentinel in and saw the hunting stance draw over the other man. Carter described the injuries and the scene to the two men in detail, going from his deputy's report in front of him and including several of the witness statements.

After ten minutes it was decided that Jim would head out there tomorrow morning - it was a day's drive, but the detective wanted to have his own transport and there was no hire car agency in the town. Simon cleared the final details and then prepared to hang up.

"Uhm, there is one other thing, Captain," Carter's voice tightened even further, "I don't know if you remember me calling for a reference for one Blair Sandburg…"

"I remember," Simon butted in immediately, worried that what was coming would upset the balance Jim worked so hard to maintain.

"You told me you had a place for him in Cascade and asked me to pass that on. I'm afraid I didn't, sir. You see, at the time I was trying to hire Blair myself. He's currently one of my deputies out here and lives in the room above my garage," this was said in a rush, "There were reasons for why I did what I did, but the point is he's here and working with my team. He knows someone's coming and has told me he's happy to work with whomever you send. I didn't want you to think he rejected your offer or anything. I just never told him it was there."

"I see," Simon said after a long minute of silence, "Detective Ellison is Sandburg's partner."

"I'm travelling down tonight," Jim blurted, "Simon, I'm going."

"Go on Jim," Simon nodded, knowing he'd never be able to keep the other man now that he knew where his partner was. Jim practically bolted from the office, snagging his coat without pausing and disappearing down the stairs.

"Thank you for your honesty, Sheriff," Simon hung up quietly and put his head in his hands. He prayed that Sandburg wouldn't run and that Ellison would get there in one piece. Surely the Universe wouldn't be so cruel as to split the two men up again?

0o0o0

On the outskirts of town something very strange happened to Jim's ears. They went from their now normal slightly cotton wool selves to better than a bat sharpness. They led him unerringly through the dark streets to a large house on a half-acre that seemed to pull at him. Locking the truck in a daze, leaving his bag behind, Jim followed his ears up the stairs outside the garage and inside the room there. He stripped down to his boxers as he navigated towards the bed and crawled into the warm scent there with tiny whimpers of need. The sleeping man snorted as his rest was disturbed and Jim froze until he settled. As he had been dreaming of ever since his soul mate left, Jim wrapped himself around the smaller form and fell deeply and happily asleep.

Jim woke alone, wrapped around a pillow. For a moment he panicked, thinking he'd hallucinated the whole thing, then the strong scent of Blair swept over him - stronger than it had been in the loft for a long time. Rolling onto his back, Jim extended senses that were sharp and sure to look for his Guide.

Blair was in the kitchen, preparing what sounded like a feast. He was humming along to the radio that was turned to a level that wouldn't disturb a Sentinel, let alone the people sleeping upstairs. Jim smiled and got up, retrieving his clothes and dressing as he walked back to the door. He was halfway down the stairs when a bright voice called:

"Good morning mommy!"

"Good morning, Bobby. Did you sleep well?" the loved voice was amused and affectionate. Jim hurried down the rest of the steps, wondering just what was going on.

"Yep. You're a good Best 'Rector. No nightmares at all," Bobby was a young boy fetchingly rumpled from sleep. He was standing with an arm around Blair's leg, looking up at the adult with love and confidence. Jim wondered at the curious phrase and nearly fell through the door at the reply Blair gave the child.

"Want to hear a secret, Bobby? My Blessed Protector came to see me last night. He's going to be visiting with us for a while."

"Chief?" Jim spluttered as he opened the door and got his first real look at his love. Blair was dressed in a blue uniform, with his hair pulled back. He was fit, but a little pale. He was on crutches, and Jim hurried forward with his hands outstretched.

"What happened to your ankle?" he asked, putting an arm around Blair's waist and looking at him anxiously. Bobby leaned in from the other side and answered for his 'mommy'.

"He fell down the stairs at the station and stringed it."

"Sprained, and I'm ok Jim," Blair leaned into his big friend, feeling comfortable for the first time in a while. It had been so long since another adult had held him this lovingly. He'd missed the simple intimacy they'd shared. Waking in Jim's arms this morning had felt so right. He hadn't wanted to leave, but at the same time hadn't wanted one of the children to walk in on them.

"Blair? You ok?" the voice from the phone sounded in the doorway and Jim got his first look at his rival for Blair. The man was about the same height as his Guide, yet carried more muscle. His hair was straight and brown, as were his eyes. He had a moustache and a tanned face. In the battered robe with the little girl in his arms, the man looked every inch the father.

"Mommy?" two anxious voices called and twins darted past their father before Blair could reply to Tony's question. They were followed by a young teen, who didn't spare Jim a glance as he pulled a chair out at the table and the twins handed Blair his crutches, tugging Bobby and Jim away while urging him to sit down. The teen was rummaging for an ice pack while Blair protested he was fine.

To calm the children down he sat on the chair and accepted the ice pack while Bobby held his hand. Jim turned to the stove and rescued the flapjacks from being burnt and starting the next batch.

"What is it about people from Cascade?" Tony shooed the children into setting the table, "Are you in the habit of feeding a family of strangers your first morning in the home?"

"It's a time honoured tradition," Jim confirmed without turning and delighted in the laughter from Blair. Lanie was settled in her high chair and Jim looked over his shoulder. The family had truly adopted Blair - that was obvious. His Guide's nickname was all the proof he needed, but the additional tenderness in their actions and words to each other spoke volumes to the Sentinel. Wondering if it would be kinder to them all to simply relocate out here - after all these people were important to Blair and therefore important to Jim - the replacement chef dished up the last of the flap jacks and put them on the table.

There was coffee going already and Jim sniffed out the bacon and scrambled eggs in the oven. The children sat down eagerly, asking Jim a hundred questions about his home in Cascade and what sort of criminals he caught. Blair was mostly silent; listening avidly to the man he'd missed like a limb for the past year.

Already Blair couldn't imagine leaving Jim again. He began packing mentally; thinking about what he'd have to do once they'd solved this case. His place at the PD would be gone by now, but maybe he could find something else to do. Even washing dishes for minimum wage would be better than being separated again. Deciding that he'd call Simon and ask the man if Jim could have some time off when this case was over, Blair watched his Blessed Protector interact with his Blessed Protectee and grinned into his coffee mug.

0o0o0

Jim stole little glances at Blair as the man directed him to the station. His Guide was sitting in his accustomed place, though the uniform was a reminder that things had changed. Blair was glancing at him too - every now and then their eyes would meet and they'd grin at each other. Jim parked where directed and Blair put a hand on his arm before Jim could open the door.

"I want us to work this out, Jim," Blair said firmly, "Can we? Can we move on?"

"Chief, I love you," Jim breathed, "And nothing is going to take me from where I'm supposed to be - which is where ever you are. We'll work it out."

"I love you too," Blair whispered Sentinel soft and Jim leaned over to touch their foreheads together. They sat still for a moment then drew apart.

"Let's not ever do this again, Chief. I couldn't stand it - I felt so alone. Even in the middle of all our friends I was lonely."

"So was I. Never again, Jim. I promise."

Blair twisted out of the truck and hobbled out of the parking lot and into the station, greeting the dispatcher as he passed and waving to Walter on his way to Tony's office. Jim shadowed him closely, nodding hello and otherwise content to let his Guide take the lead in this familiar environment. Walter came in behind them and shut the door, leaning against the wall while they once again reviewed the files and Jim handed over the information from Cascade.

Habit made him pass them to Blair first, and his partner settled down and rifled them quickly, memory serving well as he hit the high points quickly and then flipped through the forensics files as well before handing them to Tony. Blair's questions were in the shorthand that Cascade detectives had developed over the years - he mentioned the names and places of his old home as if he'd only left yesterday.

Walter and Tony shared a look across Blair's head. They'd lost their man to Cascade once more and they knew it. It was easy to see that the partnership here was strong - the two men moved and spoke almost as a single unit. Tony was impressed by the level of expertise that Blair showed, even as he was repulsed by the contents of the files.

"Look," Tony interrupted a gruesome discussion of the final victim, "All I want to do is stop this guy. We've never had a crime like this in my town and I don't want to start. Walt and I have been listening around to see if anyone has a new guest or has spotted a drifter in the area, but so far no go. Blair, I want you to take this case on with Ellison. Do what you have to - you've got complete carte blanche. Walter will act as back up in the field - your ankle will slow you down too much. You're the only man in the department with this kind of experience, Sandburg. Go catch him."

"Will, do," Blair nodded. He struggled up and nodded for Jim to gather the files from Tony's desk before leading the way to the office that had once stored all the computers. His own desk was next to it, so they'd have access to the network. Directing Jim to grab the tape and thumbtacks, Blair went inside and started setting up a ready room - just like they had in Cascade.

Once that was done Walter and Blair took Jim out to the Mallard house.

0o0o0

Jim once again had an opportunity to observe Blair in his element. The Mallards were pleased to see Walt and Blair, but the daughter was especially glad to see Deputy Mommy. The handsome young man made a little fuss, checking her over and saying all the things she needed to hear at this time. He got her settled with her parents and then walked through that evening and the subsequent morning. Putting her into a light trance, Blair guided her through the recall, going over the small details to extract the least bit of information.

He left behind a proud teenager - her confidence buoyed by the idea that she was helping to catch the man that did this to her. Then he walked Jim through the scene. Suzie had been sleeping with her little sister - the teen's room shut up tightly and locked to boot, though Jim could assure them that this criminal would not return to the scene of the crime.

Once inside, Blair latched a hand in Jim's rumpled shirt and the Sentinel's senses kicked him in the hindbrain. Everything flared into crystal sharp focus, letting Jim scent their quarry for the first time. He collected forensic evidence in silence, Blair anticipating his every move perfectly. Without speaking they moved into the garden to check for further clues, finding a footprint that didn't belong to any of the occupants in the house and moving from there to the road where Jim lost the trail.

"Well, we can't expect to be that lucky on our first time out since I left Cascade," Blair stowed the samples as usual, while Jim took a broader impression of the area. Jim's eyes flicked to his partner and a small smile twitched his lips. Both men had forgotten Walter's presence as they regained their groove.

"Would be nice, though," Jim chuckled, "We'd cement our legend in the bullpen."

Blair snorted and shook his head before turning to get in the car. His crutches knocked on the door and Walt stepped forward to help before Jim could.

"Uh, Jim - you should probably let Walt drive. This is his unit," Blair grinned at his partner and Jim laughed in astonishment, remembering the deputy's presence at the last moment. Walt drawled his thanks and got in, taking them back to the station.

Once there, the samples went to the nearest lab with one of the other deputies while Jim and Blair disappeared into their ready room. When two o'clock came with no sign of them emerging, Tony went in to drag his deputy out for lunch. No matter how hard the rest of the department tried, stuffing delicious meals down the man's throat, thin Blair never seemed to gain weight. He opened the door and stood still for a moment, watching the two men inside.

Blair was leaning on the desk, hands moving gracefully in the air as he spoke and Ellison was leaning on the windowsill, arms folded as he shot down the other man's theories. They were grinning lightly at each other as they worked, referring occasionally to the files that now littered every flat surface in the office, and were stuck to the walls besides. Blair had taped up large sheets of paper, which were full of notes and diagrams as one or the other man added what they were saying to the charts.

They looked complete. Blair was relaxed in a way that Tony had never seen in his lodger. Ellison was a loose bundle of muscle by the window, his deep voice rumbling in pleasant counterpoint to the lighter tenor. Tony hated to interrupt them, but if Blair didn't eat now he'd be unable to take the pain meds that the department ganged up and force-fed him in the afternoon. The sprain was a serious one, and painful to boot. No one liked to see the young man go downhill in the afternoon - the bright eyes dulling as his body sent unhappy messages.

"Sandburg! Food!" Tony interrupted when there was a pause, "No food equals no meds and no meds makes Sandburg a grumpy deputy."

"Meds?" the word was sharp, and light blue eyes became laser-like as they speared the curly haired man, "Chief?"

"Pain meds, and I hate them. I don't really need them Tony - it's much better," Blair turned begging eyes that Bobby seemed to have learned on his boss. Tony hardened his heart and shook his head.

"Sasha is expecting us, so lets go. I think Marcus has made a special for you. And Doc said to keep on them until it could bear your weight for ten seconds. You can't even bear two at the moment - it's all you can do to put your foot down," Tony revealed, one eye on the man from Cascade. As he expected, the detective started to fuss, gathering up the crutches and scolding the other man for not telling him sooner. Between the two of them Jim and Tony ushered Blair down the street for his lunch and then back for the hated meds.

Blair went and parked himself at his desk, starting the data entry that was the only chore he could handle once the drug kicked in and dulled his thinking. Jim and Tony went for a long drive around the town, letting Jim familiarise himself with the area a little and letting Tony tell the detective Deputy Mommy stories that the younger man probably wouldn't think to pass on.

0o0o0

Jim reflected on the day as Blair used the bathroom before leaving the house to cross to the garage. The Sentinel had watched his friend greet the children after school and had helped him cook dinner in the Carter's kitchen. That had been like old times as they teased and played about together, once again working in harmony. Jim couldn't believe how little effort it had taken for them to snap back into place - it was as if their year apart had had refined them, stripped away the baggage and let them move on at their own pace, so that now they were as good as ever.

It had been hard not to spend the day with Sandburg on his lap, one hand entwined in curly hair, his lips pressed to warm skin. Their time apart had sharpened Jim's desire for his love, though when they'd been living in Cascade it had been a barely acknowledged attraction. He was going to start as he meant to go on, which meant publicly recognising Blair's importance and place in his life.

Jim had spent the day swinging between sorrow at missing so much in Blair's life and vast contentment in his Guide's presence. He choked up when Blair performed his Blessed Protector ritual for Bobby, recognising that from their experience with Lash. Blair had shot him an understanding look and Jim had said his goodnights to Tony, heading back to Blair's room over the garage, remembering to retrieve his bag this time. He wanted no illusions in the Sheriff's mind - Blair and he were together and not ashamed of it. Tony hadn't seemed to blink.

Blair's fresh scent intruded on his awareness and Jim smiled, getting up to meet his partner at the top of the stairs. He took the crutches away gently and then picked the other man up, walking to the bed and sitting down on the edge with Blair in his lap.

"Uhh, Jim?" Blair's voice was hesitant and Jim shushed him absently, tenderly working Blair out of the clothes he'd changed into before dinner. He'd already peeled the covers back and got them both settled on the bed, Blair tucked up against him tightly, the covers around their waist.

"Do me a favour, Chief," Jim sighed, "Put your head on my shoulder and let me tell you something important."

Blair shifted a little and then draped himself half over Jim, a leg between Jim's thighs, his head resting over Jim's heart. Silken hair fanned over sensitive nipples and Jim's lower brain took notice. When the detective spoke again his voice was a little husky with arousal. Blair kept his face deliberately turned away, sensing the coming conversation would be easier for Jim if he did.

"The day you left - god, we must have missed each other by minutes - Simon and I had organised a surprise in the bullpen for you. We were going to offer you the Academy and a permanent partnership with me. It hurt so much that you left me, Chief. I know why you did it, and it was probably for the best. It gave me time to think, to really think about what had been going on between us since…the fountain."

Blair chose this moment to kiss the skin under him and reach up a hand to cup Jim's face. The loving gestures seized Jim's heart for a moment and he ran warm hands over his living blanket. He cleared his throat and kept going, trying to ignore the tingling in his groin as he did. It was not easy.

"I know we both made mistakes and I know why it went down that way. If you need to discuss it I can…"

Blair shook his head silently; he had no wish to rip open old wounds. Jim nuzzled the hand cupping his face and went on slowly.

"The dissertation - well, we'd have survived that if we hadn't just barely survived Alex. I'm not proud of what I said love. I'm sorry for my part in it. I can only promise to try and do better. Blair? Aw, don't cry sweetheart. It's ok, we're ok now. I'm so sorry I put you through all this."

"Shut up," the voice was muffled, "We both screwed up. I should never have…"

"Shh. No blame. No what ifs. We're together now and we'll make it all better. As hard as it was this year was good for me - it showed me what is important and what is a luxury. You are not a luxury, love. I don't know how we'll manage it, but you and I are not splitting up again - ok?" Jim kissed the top of his love's head and buried his fingers in silken curls. Blair calmed down and rested quietly for a moment. When Jim judged he was ready the Sentinel began to speak one last time.

"I've been attracted to you for a while - in a half and half kind of way. And the friendship was solid - it was alive and vital and beautiful. I loved you like a brother those early years, but over time it became something more. I never really paid attention to it though, not until it was almost too late. I love you Blair Sandburg, and I want to grow old with you."

"I love you too, Jim. And I am growing old with you - end of discussion," warm lips curved in a smile on Jim's chest and he sighed in pure happiness, carding fingers through the long hair and relaxing slowly under the weight. His groin was aching in pleasure as his body absorbed the feeling of having Blair spread over him like a blanket.

"I could get used to this happy couple stuff," Jim mumbled and gasped when Blair's chuckle tingled through his body in a heady rush, "Oh!"

Blair chuckled again and let his other hand drift down to Jim's boxers, stroking the hard length he found there tenderly. Jim made another little noise of surprise and his hips thrust involuntarily in response to the touch. Blair chuckled again and nibbled on the skin beneath him as his fingers strayed lightly, touching with reverence and respect while Jim quivered under him. Jim felt himself start to leak and moaned softly, wanting more but unable to ask for it. Blair didn't need the words; he just trailed his hand to the elastic and slid inside.

Jim blinked, lifted his head to look down at his groin, and then acknowledged that Blair's hand was cupping his naked cock. He came with a strangled shout that he muffled with his free hand and shuddered through the aftershocks.

"Sorry, sorry, too good, so good. Wanted you for so long," Jim babbled, kissing the curls frantically and Blair pulled himself up to silence Jim with his own mouth, letting his tongue play joyously in the warm cavern. When Jim was reduced to silence Blair rolled onto his side.

"Take 'em off, Jim and clean up," Blair kissed Jim again and watched while his lover did as he was told. His own erection ached and Jim rolled Blair onto his back before kissing him firmly. The kisses wandered down the smaller man's neck to his chest, and then his belly. Boxers were stripped away and Jim worshiped Blair's cock like it was about to outlawed, dredging up every memory he had of high school blow jobs and the circle jerk he'd participated in during his senior year. What he lacked in style he made up for in love. Blair came with a sob and Jim licked him clean, and then gathered him close to sleep.

0o0o0

The next two days were spent canvassing the area for any transients or travelling sales people that would fit the profile. Carter spent a violent moment, wishing his wife's new lover was in town, then was overcome with remorse - realising his wife would be the first victim and that he still loved her. They'd been childhood sweethearts and married young - having babies almost straight away when Tony was just a deputy in the department.

Jim and Blair worked the area over with Jim's senses - and Blair introduced his partner from Cascade to everyone they met. The town saw a new side to Blair - the happy relaxed man that lit up in the presence of his partner a very different man to the slightly sombre person that worked so hard. The energy that had always been slightly muted was given free reign and the twinkle in his eyes was infectious.

Jim watched is partner interact with the people who charged him with their safety, watched the young man make himself at home in countless kitchens and across endless front counters. This was the Shaman given free reign - connecting with the people he served as he should have in Cascade but couldn't. Jim realised that there was no windy lookout at this town for the Shaman to brood from and no balcony for silent vigils. They weren't needed here.

The department got into the habit of sneaking the door to the ready room open to watch the two men work over the evidence, looking for hidden clues. Amid much argument Jim persuaded Blair to throw out the profile they'd paid for and to construct his own - as they would have back in Cascade if Blair had been there. The arguments and tart remarks were very entertaining to the deputies as they saw the professional side of Blair Sandburg - the profiler and cultural expert wielding his intelligence like a weapon. There had been no call for him in the town before, and the change was startling.

At night the two men retired as soon as Blair's obligations were over for the evening. They would take turns to undress each other and then cuddle on the double bed, exploring with hands and mouths, searching for the hidden hot spots and taking pleasure in giving it. On the second night Blair slipped a finger between Jim's cheeks to touch the pucker there and watched in astonishment as Jim clutched, babbled, thrashed and came, passing out at the end.

He woke snuggled on Blair's chest and kissed his Guide desperately.

"God, that was intense," Jim moaned, "Chief, would you touch me there again? Could you maybe…play there a little?"

Blair kissed him tenderly and sucked on his finger to wet it before replacing it on Jim's pucker. Jim's limp penis leapt to attention and he shuddered hard, arching his back and pressing against the stroking finger. His hands clutched Blair's arms and his face contorted in pleasure as the finger slid inside him. The sensation made him whimper as Blair pushed it in and then pulled out slowly, repeating the action several times.

"More," Jim begged, "More, please, more!"

"Shh, you'll wake the house," Blair whispered, "Get me the hand cream from the drawer."

Jim leapt from the bed and ran there and back. Blair pulled his lover over onto his body, so they were lying belly to belly. He hitched Jim up a bit so he could reach comfortably and then slathered cream over his fingers. Jim buried his face in Blair's neck as the first finger slid in and pumped slowly and carefully. Muffled groans and sighs came from the larger man and he began pushing back against the intriguing sensation. Blair's own cock was hard at the feel of the muscles around his finger and he wondered if Jim would want his cock inside, instead of his fingers.

"More," the moan made Blair shiver and he pulled out, added more cream and slid a second finger inside. He'd had an adventurous girlfriend who liked anal sex and she'd taught him how to prepare her carefully. They'd had tests and then done it raw once or twice before she started dating a woman. Blair had taken the rejection philosophically and then agreed to participate in a threesome with them, letting one ride while he suckled on the other.

Jim was moving insistently now and Blair slid a third finger in, waiting out the shudders and sobs before slowly pumping again, working to stretch the muscle as much as possible. When Jim was once again pushing back and making approving noises Blair turned his head and whispered,

"Do you want my cock?"

Jim sat up in shock and almost came as Blair hit his prostate. He clenched his ass to keep the fingers in place and then enthusiastically slathered the hand cream over his lover's engorged cock. He raised his body over it and reached down to pull the fingers away.

"Wait Jim, this is hard to do!" Blair's warning was ignored as Jim lined himself up and sank down on the other man's erection with a moan of ecstasy. Blair jolted and tried not to come as his cock was squeezed into the tightest place it had ever been. Jim was panting and whimpering, his cock twitching in reaction to the pleasure and pain rolling through his body. He rocked back and forth a few times, which made Blair groan and thrust up into the weight that was pinning his hips to the bed. He hit Jim's prostate again and Jim came with a little cry, the come splashing all over both men as it spurted from his cock in strong spurts.

Blair came with a silent scream as his throbbing cock was massaged intensely.

Jim fell forward again; sobbing for air and clutching the only solid point of reference he had in a world gone crazy with pleasure. Exhausted, both men fell asleep as they were.

0o0o0

Jim woke alone again, wrapped around Blair's pillow. His ass was aching a little at the exertion from last night and Jim took a moment to stretch and move carefully, cataloguing his body's response. He'd never come so hard in his life than when that finger had first touched him, and Jim thought about what it meant that he enjoyed the penetration so much.

Hugging Blair's pillow to him, Jim dozed on and off, considering who he was and what he'd done last night. Deciding in the end that it didn't matter - he was sure of Blair's love and the younger man wouldn't respect him any less for taking it up the ass - Jim got up and got dressed. He passed Tony and Lanie in the kitchen and slid into the ensuite attached to the Sheriff's room. Tony had told Jim that it was the 'grown up' bathroom and the best way to avoid queues.

Blair's towel was wet, so the young man had already been here. Jim cleaned himself up and got dressed again before heading back to the kitchen. The sound of his lover's laugh led Jim to the front room where he found Blair sitting with his ankle elevated while plaiting Alice's long hair. Sam was sitting at the piano, waving her hands around as she talked and Bobby was cuddled up on the couch with Harry, reading his school text to his older brother.

"Good morning," Jim smiled at them all and was given a chorus of good mornings in return. The children were smiling back at him and Sam made room on the piano bench for Jim to sit down. He thanked her as he sat and watched Blair start on the second plait. Tony came to announce that breakfast was ready.

"Jim, are you and Mommy in love?" Sam's question was a surprise to say the least. Blair paled a little, remembering that the girls' window pointed toward the garage. Tony cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to chastise his daughter. It was none of their business and Tony wasn't too eager to be confronted by a gay couple. If there was a gay community in town, it kept its head down.

"I love him very much," Jim replied immediately, cutting the other man off, "We had a bad time together and we were apart for a while, but we're better now."

"Are you going to take Mommy away when you leave?" Alice spoke up in a thoughtful voice. Blair dropped a kiss on her hair and then glanced at Tony, wondering if the other man would want his children touched by a gay man. Tony smiled at him like he always did when Blair was affectionate towards the children and a weight lifted from the young man's heart.

"Well, here's the thing," Jim spoke up again, "He's very happy here with all of you, and I like this town. Maybe we could stay? We could find a house to live in and you can still see him."

"Jim!" Blair gasped, "What about the PD?"

"They can replace me," Jim shrugged, "I could find work here somewhere."

"We'll discuss this later," Blair looked at the happy kids and tied off the last plait, "All done, Alice. Who's ready for breakfast?"

The children jumped up and Harry passed over the crutches for Blair with a smile. Tony lingered in the doorway.

"Are we ok?" Blair asked nervously and Tony looked from one man to the other.

"I'm not comfortable with the idea - but it's none of my business. And you're ok with the kids - it's not like I'm worried you'll corrupt them or anything," the Sheriff shrugged, "Just don't run around kissing in public."

"That is so not our style," Jim laughed, "You've seen us in public - that's pretty much how we've always been."

Tony nodded and headed for the kitchen. Blair paused in front of Jim and looked him over. Then he smiled, one of the brighter-than-the-sun smiles that made Jim feel like he could walk on water.

"I love you and I want to go back to Cascade with you," Blair whispered, "We'll work something out with the kids. Promise me we can go home? I miss our home and our friends and our city."

"We can pretty much do whatever you want love," Jim whispered back, hooking a finger through the uniform belt loop and tugging Blair in for a hug, "Whatever you want."

0o0o0

Four days of canvassing the area and working the old files had Blair slowly going nuts. Part of the problem is that if this jerk followed his previous pattern they would have another two weeks to wait. Added to the frustration of waiting was the fact that they had no real clues to go on with - no strangers, or semi-regular visitors were in town at the time of the first attack and there was no known pattern of salesmen, truck drivers or any other travelling worker that fit the timetable.

Realizing this, Blair started looking for a traveller that had gone to Cascade - for whatever reason - and was a local. He was grateful that the local council had decided to change the lock on the office that was storing the computers and only give one key to Tony. That was now their ready room and he could lock his files and scribbles away from prying eyes. The department was a hotbed of gossip - the whole town was - and Blair didn't want his latest theory to get out. The problem was that he was investigating friends now, and that felt very wrong to the young man.

Blair now spent the early parts of the day out on the streets, gathering the gossip and tales of the community, looking for patterns of absence and travel. Several people came close and he got Jim to call Cascade and start the ball rolling on background checks and the like. Jim noticed that Blair didn't have any contact with their Cascade friends and made a mental note to encourage Simon to call Tony's house later.

It was the afternoon of the fifth day when Blair stumbled heavily in the station house and fell with a loud cry. Jim and his colleagues were there in seconds. One look at the drawn face and Tony sent the deputy home, bidding Jim to make sure he iced and rested the injured ankle and helping the detective carry the man out to the truck. Blair refused to go see the doctor and Tony accepted Jim's reassurances that he would monitor Blair closely. Tony told his lodger not to worry about preparing dinner tonight and the partners left, Jim driving slow and careful so as to avoid jostling his partner.

"You want to tell me what's going on, Chief?" Jim asked once they were well away from the station. Blair didn't open his eyes, though his hand crept across the seat to rest on Jim's thigh.

"Not an award winning performance?" he sighed and Jim shook his head, remembering not to laugh or grin. Any such action would give the game away. He'd never realised how much anonymity they had in the city - back home they'd be laughing about the subterfuge by now.

"Not to a Sentinel, now give," Jim let the grin infuse his tone, though his stern expression didn't change. Blair shook his head a little and bit his lip.

"You locked up, right? Then it can wait until we get home. You'll have to carry me up the stairs I'm afraid," Blair bit the inside of his cheeks to hold back the smile.

"Oh yeah, I can see the report to Simon now - I put my back out carrying you around. Can't we do the slow agonising hop?" Jim complained lightly and Blair cracked one eye open to look at his partner.

"Mrs. Guilefoyle will be watching. She'll come over and fuss if I'm mobile - if I'm not you can bar her at the door. You could send her for an icepack or something and she'll go that bit quicker."

"Good point," Jim sighed and took the turn carefully. Blair's hand remained in place on his thigh and Jim dropped one hand down to cover it, squeezing slender fingers gently and rubbing with his thumb.

"I love you Chief," Jim told his partner, "I'm so grateful we have this second chance. I'm sorry we screwed up our first one."

"Never again, Jim. From now on we talk and we listen," Blair's voice shook a little and Jim hung on tighter, "I couldn't survive this again."

"You won't have to my love. I promise," Jim vowed.

0o0o0

Jim reflected that Blair's performance once they got home was masterful. He'd waited silently in the truck while Jim hurried around to his door and managed to 'stumble' a little on the exit. Jim had swept him up in his arms with a grunt and stormed up the garage stairs quickly. Blair leant an assist on the door, and Jim was lowering him to the bed as Mrs Guilfoyle's voice sounded at the bottom of the steps.

Jim had mumbled quick reassurances through the door to her, and then accepted the ice pack, sandwiches and jug of juice she made for them both. Blair managed a pained thank you and Jim had closed the door firmly before closing all the blinds in the room.

Blair sat up with a grin and reached for the food eagerly.

"Care to have me for lunch instead?" Jim hoped that sounded cool and casual instead of needy and desperate, but didn't really care if it got his lover touching his body again. He'd gotten half hard at the whispered commentary that Blair had made as he was carried up the stairs, not to mention the quick feel his lover had copped as he put the man down.

"Oh god," Blair sighed, "We can't. I should never have started. I'm sorry, Jim. There was a reason for the performance in the station and we need to decided what to do."

Jim sighed and chose to sit on the floor so he could concentrate. The case came first, though he was enjoying this 'working honeymoon' of theirs. They ate in companionable silence and Jim smiled at the anxious looks Blair was giving him.

"It's ok, love," Jim told him, "Pleasure deferred is pleasure doubled. I know you didn't mean to tease."

"God I love you," Blair closed his eyes for a moment and gathered his wits. He took a deep breath and smiled at the man sitting on the floor before beginning to speak.

"Ok, Walter Phillips divorced his wife this year, though they've been separated for a while. He had what the town refers to as marital difficulties, though some of the less refined said he couldn't keep it up for his wife. There was some suggestion of perversion - which could mean anything from watching porn to being a full on masochist with a leather fetish and a desire for virgin sacrifices. His lawyer was in Cascade and he made a few trips these last few months that fit the timing of the attacks there," Blair's face screwed itself up in an expression of pain, "He's a nice guy and fairly quiet. He's been a good friend, you know - introduced me around and partnering with me in the unit's a couple of times. I hope to God I'm wrong. I really do."

"Apart from the timing of the trips, is there anything else?" Jim shifted nearer, putting their plates on the dresser and pouring juice for them both. Blair shrugged unhappily and took a sip.

"We've had some deep conversations," he sighed, "You know how it is - you're manning the speed trap, which is as dull as a stakeout and you get to talking about all sorts of stuff. Life, love, gay couples and sex toys all came up over a period of a couple of weeks. I can't remember when. I do remember telling him about some of the things I've seen in my travels and a few of the things I've done."

Blair stumbled to a halt and stared down at his glass before draining it off and then toying with the empty vessel. Jim took that away too and got onto the bed, spooning up behind Blair so his back was against Jim's chest and Jim was leaning on the wall. Blair sighed and covered Jim's arms with his own, shifting carefully to make his ankle comfortable.

"So, you've talked about weird things and the timing fits. How bad can you make your ankle?" Jim asked, "Enough to get us tomorrow off? We can wait until he's on duty and then go scope out the house."

"Won't work - he's got a retired builder across the road with binoculars," Blair let his head rest on Jim's shoulder, looking up at the blue eyes of his lover, "Simon's not going to let you stay here forever, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Chief," Jim sighed, "I think we need to have a look around his house - there must be something there to indicate what's going on. A guy doesn't lose it over marital troubles and a few late shift discussions."

"He's on night shift," Blair said in a soft voice, "We could go tonight when everyone's asleep. You know, anything we find…"

"Yeah but if we find that he's not the man we're looking for you'll be happier, right? That's why you staged your fall when you did. So you wouldn't have to see him while you were thinking these things," Jim kissed the curly hair tickling his chin and then nuzzled into it while Blair admitted that had been the case.

"So, we've got an hour and a half before the kids get home," Jim said suggestively, "I've been keeping track. Can you think of something for us to do?"

"Maybe," Blair turned enough so he was able to kiss the neck he was snuggling. Jim tilted his head to give him better access and then pulled away slowly.

"We never discussed that night," Jim panted, "The night I rode you. We've only messed around like we did before."

"I didn't think it was very fair to take without giving, and I can't do that until my ankle heals a bit more," Blair started undoing the buttons on his shirt, stripping out of it with calm efficiency. Jim was stripping too, his skin tingling in anticipation, his ass twitching in desire.

"You don't have to give me that back. Truth is I loved it - I never thought I would, when I dreamed of us it was always the other was around, but this was so good. I needed it so much. Would it hurt you if I rode again?" his voice was husky with want and Blair stripped his boxers off before lying back on the mattress. His half erect cock drew Jim's attention immediately. Blair reached up and cupped Jim's cheek, turning his lover's eyes towards him.

"It won't hurt," Blair said gently, "If you don't mind doing most of the work."

"Oh yeah," Jim grabbed the hand cream and straddled Blair, leaning in for a kiss, "I'll work it, baby"

0o0o0

Blair felt like a heel for lying to the kids and Tony about his ankle, but did it anyway. Walt was their trusted friend and he didn't want them hurt if he was wrong about the man. He was praying to be wrong and Jim respected him for that. Jim had learnt that the hard way, when the two had argued over the innocence of Orville Wallace. Blair had been right then - now he was hoping to be wrong.

Jim was of two minds about the whole thing. He wanted to catch the guy and lock him up like the animal he was, but at the same time he didn't want Blair hurt. If his friend turned out to be a psychopath it would be an enormous blow. At the same time, Jim realised that by bringing in one of their own, Blair was burning his bridges to this community. The people here wouldn't be comfortable with the idea that one of their own was so bad, and Blair would be a reminder of that - the outsider who caught the man.

The plan was to get to Walter's house at two in the morning. They'd have to leave the truck behind and walk - something Jim wasn't eager to do with his partner on crutches. After dinner they'd argued over Blair's involvement in this raid. In the end he had to agree and let Jim go alone - there was no way he could manage a cross town walk as he was - and his ankle still wouldn't bear his weight, though it was getting better. In the end, Jim took his cell phone and Blair sat in the kitchen next to the phone. Jim would call once he reached Phillips' house.

Walter Phillips lived in a street of small houses - just like Blair had described. The young man had been there several times, when both men were off shift and relaxing. Jim avoided the creaking front steps and went around the back to where the laundry door was. This was unlocked, like Blair had said - Walter had the habit of leaving it that way In case a neighbour needed something. It was that kind of street.

Slipping inside, Jim called the number he'd memorized and heard Blair pick up after only half a ring.

"Good reflexes, Chief," Jim teased and opened his vision wide to start his inspection.

"Yeah, well - we're not advertising here, right? You got your sight dialled up?" Blair's voice was hushed and anxious. Jim moved quietly into the kitchen and glanced around. The house was silent but for the small noise of his movements.

"Yep," Jim confirmed, "You know in a way it's a good thing I'm not tempted to turn to the life of a cat burglar - no flashlight to give me away and all the rest."

They'd agreed that Jim would talk to Blair so the Guide knew he wasn't zoning. This involved what Jim privately called 'Blair babble' - talking non-stop about a given topic. He didn't think he'd be too good at it, but it was one of the concessions he'd made in order to ensure Blair stayed behind. If he zoned alone and in the dark they were in big trouble.

Walter lived a quiet life. The departure of his wife had also led to the departure of a number of appliances and pieces of furniture. Jim described all this to Blair in detail as he walked through the house for the first time. Blair asked the occasional question, building a mental profile of the house and it's contents trying to match anything to their profile and gaining an idea of where to look.

Once he was back in the laundry Jim asked for suggestions.

"Start where you are," Blair murmured, "Go through any storage boxes he has in there and the tool kit as well."

"Hmm," Jim mumbled, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, "We've got housebreaking tools here, but at the same time they could be legitimate. Nothing else. I'm heading for the kitchen."

As they agreed, Jim was wearing gloves - a pair of disposable ones they'd taken from the first aid kit in Tony's kitchen. They couldn't use anything they found in court, but at the same time didn't want to risk contaminating evidence they might legitimately collect later.

The kitchen and living room was free of anything incriminating and Jim moved on to the bedroom. The majority of people kept their porn in the bedroom and Jim found a drawer full of gay magazines and a few toys. He felt sorry for the man that was struggling alone with his identity and spent a few seconds offering silent yet fervent thanks that he had a partner who loved and supported him.

Blair was hurting on the other end of the line for his friend and wondering why he'd never noticed that things were headed in this direction.

"One of these toys could be the object used in the first act of penetration," Jim told his friend sadly, "Or they could just be things he bought for himself."

"It's all circumstantial," Blair sighed, "We haven't solved our problem at all."

"Chief, short of finding a diary with a confession in it, I doubt we'll be able to prove anything one way or another. We just have to catch him in the act," Jim reminded his lover as he closed the drawer carefully and paused to check that the neighbourhood was still silent. Everything was as it should be and Jim bent to look under the bed. Taped to the slats was a scrapbook. In it were clippings of the Cascade Times - each a report of the Major Crimes team attempting to capture their quarry.

Jim replaced the scrapbook with a grim face and got up. He told Blair he was coming back and hung up, heading out of the house quickly and moving away in the shadows. Twenty minutes brisk walk got him back to Tony's garage and Blair met him at the top of the stairs, grimfaced and sad. They held each other for a long time before going in and slipping into the bed. Jim tried to ask Blair what he wanted to do about Walter, but his love refused to discuss it, burying his face in Jim's neck and stroking Jim's stomach instead.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

0o0o0

In the end, the Shaman caught the killer for them. Blair was silent on the subject all day, and Jim decided not to push it. There was no way that Jim could see for them to expose Walter without revealing their clandestine search. They spent the day at the station in grim silence, completing busy work and avoiding the other deputies and the Sheriff. Blair's colleagues thought it was because the ankle was playing up and didn't disturb them other than to deliver a solid lunch to the ready room at one.

Blair was standing by his desk when Walter came in for shift change. The other man was hanging his coat on his chair when Blair called across in a calm voice,

"So who's the victim after Suzie?"

"Jerry Cooper," Walter replied in the same voice, "He's got such a tight ass - he's just begging for it."

There was dead silence as the Sheriff and deputies in the room froze and stared over at their friend.

"Why did you do it, Walt? Why didn't you come to us?" Blair's voice was sad now, and Walt looked up and across the room at him.

"She left me because I wasn't excited by her body any more - like it's my fault she was a cold fish in bed. All those people - they just wanted what I did, you know."

"Boys and girls alike?" Jim asked, "How did you decide?"

"You can see it in their eyes. I thought it was just Cascade, man - Blair was always joking about it being a hotbed of depravity. But it's here too. Suzie and Jerry and a few others," Walter shrugged. Tony stepped closer and frowned.

"Walter, are you saying that you're responsible for the crimes in Cascade and the attack on Suzie?" he asked in a shocked voice. Walter looked over with a grin and nodded.

"Come on, Tony, it's not like they didn't want it. It's like your wife - she wanted more than she had. So did I and I decided to take it," Walter Phillips didn't seem to see anything wrong with that statement. He was very bewildered when his boss quietly took his weapon away and then arrested him.

The search of his house - this time a legal one - revealed the evidence Jim had found in his first clandestine search. Walter was locked up and the DA in Cascade started proceedings to have him brought in for trial. Because of his involvement with the man, Jim would not be required to escort the prisoner.

When asked, Blair said he was just joking around with a friend. He said he'd noticed the pattern of absences but hadn't given it serious thought. He was aiming to get a little teasing of his normally unflappable friend in at the end of a long day and Walter had surprised them all by confessing. He gave details in his confession that hadn't been reported in the press, and his lawyer was trying to set up an evaluation for him even as Cascade arranged for his transfer.

Everyone hoped he'd be declared insane - none of them wanted to think that their friend had done this in his right mind. The town was shocked over the whole thing and during the confusion, Blair slipped his resignation onto Tony's desk and started preparing the kids to say goodbye.

Jim had to leave his partner behind to return to Cascade - and did so reluctantly. Simon couldn't spare him any longer and there was no way to get extra leave time approved. Promising to come back in a week to drive them both home - for good - Jim bade Blair a temporary goodbye and headed back to Cascade.

0o0o0

Epilogue

Simon ducked in off the balcony and waved the people in the loft silent. Jim had warned them that Blair was still on crutches for his sprained ankle, so they were prepared not to rush the man in a group hug. Anything else was kosher as far as Simon was concerned. Simon had called on the ruse of looking for a file about an hour ago and gotten a progress report from Jim at the same time. Jim knew about the party and had managed to arrive right on time.

He knew that both men would be a little tired from the long drive, but his people wanted to see their friend again, and Simon wanted to be sure that Blair understood that he had a real place among them. Jim had returned from his brief sojourn a new man - full of energy and personality; a stark contrast to the last year. Brown had commented that they had to find a way to bottle Hair boy - they'd make a fortune.

Hearing the lift arrive, everyone got even quieter, facing the door and grinning in anticipation. Voices and the heavy sound of someone moving on crutches floated through the closed door. Jim's key sounded in the lock and he opened the door, stepping though and to one side, ushering his partner in.

"Surprise!" the chorus of voices ended in a shocked gasp as they got their first look at Blair after a years absence. He was pale and had lost weight, despite the muscles and tone to his body. His face had new lines around the eyes and mouth - prominently displayed at the moment as the tired man struggled with his injury and travel weariness. His hair was longer than ever and tied back instead of hanging loose. His clothes were different though he still wore layers in an effort to keep warm.

Then he smiled, the old smile. The one that said 'hey you're a god and I'm glad to see you'. The one that made the receiver feel like the only person in the world and precious to boot.

"Hey!" his voice was happy and Simon stepped forward without thinking and threw rule number one out the window. Group hug. Blair's crutches disappeared as he was passed from person to person. He was hugged and kissed and petted and generally smooched until he was handed to Jim, who put him on the couch and handed him a bottle of juice. People settled down then and Blair was peppered with questions about what he'd been doing and where he'd gone.

Blair answered as best he could, struggling sometimes to find the words. Jim chipped in with the 'Mommy' anecdotes that Tony had given him and Blair was properly teased for it all. After only a few hours the man yawned as his exhaustion caught up and they headed out, extracting numerous promises from Blair that he'd come in to the bullpen soon, and several from Jim regarding the proper care and surveillance of their friend.

Blair looked around the homey space he'd given up and brushed a few tears away. The loft looked as it had before he'd packed himself away. The curly haired man frowned - he distinctly remembered packing several of these artifacts in boxes to go into storage.

"Detective Ellison!" Blair barked, "Have you unpacked my storage shed?"

"Yep," Jim smiled smugly down at the other man and then bent and picked him up for the walk to the bathroom. The crutches were leaning against the doors to the balcony, and there they'd stay for the next few days. Things had quietened down enough for Jim to have two days off and he didn't intend for Blair to walk, hop or crawl a single step. This was mainly because they'd be spending the time in bed, but also because Jim wanted to pamper the other man. The Sentinel had decided that his Guide should be pampered and cosseted as much as possible for the next few weeks, and then any time he could get away with it in the future.

"Damn, Jim. You didn't have to do that," Blair wasn't referring to being carried to the bathroom either. Jim kissed his cheek and then left him to take care of business. He swept Blair up and whisked him up the stairs to the bed, before hurrying back down to lock up and take care of his own nightly routine.

Settling into the bed with his love in his arms, Jim nuzzled through silken curls happily and finally answered Blair's statement.

"I know I didn't have to. I didn't have to do a lot of things. But this was something I wanted. In a way it was selfish of me - the more of your belongings that were here, the more of your scent I had. I paid off the University debts because I couldn't bear the thought of you struggling with them. If things had gone right we'd have gotten you a decent job - I had nightmares about you working for minimum wage and still starving to death. You gave up so much for me - a little repayment on my part made me feel better."

"I love you," Blair sighed, "And…I understand that you want to spoil me a little - so I won't complain for the next few days. But Jim, you have to understand. We're independent men. I don't need to be wrapped in cotton wool and protected. Sometimes it's nice, but not every day."

"I don't want to wrap you in cotton wool," Jim told him, leaning over to make eye contact, "But I do want to cherish you. I love you too. You've cherished me for so long. Let's make it mutual, ok?"

"Deal," Blair sealed it with a kiss and then snuggled in to sleep.

0o0o0

Jim watched the wind lift and toss the wild curls. Invisible fingers plucked at his lover's clothes, stirring the many layers and making it seem as if the body inside was shifting with them. Cascade sprawled in all her glory before them and Jim smiled at their city.

Coming closer, Jim wrapped his arms around the wiry body, as if to anchor it from the wind. Instant warmth flowed between them as they connected in the most basic way. Despite all their efforts Blair's weight remained at the level it had been when he returned to Cascade and Jim had stopped fretting, resigned to the fact that the sturdy man he'd once known was replaced by this new body. It was as if the time apart had burnt away any impurities - leaving behind pure Blair. Jim listened to the precious heartbeat and smelt the beloved scent of his mate, content to watch over the Shaman as he watched over their city and the wind played with his hair.

end


End file.
